From The Other Side
by fourstarbanner
Summary: The story of Renee and Roe's relationship from Renee's perspective, including her family before the war and how she wound up in Bastogne.
1. Chapter 1: Chocolat

Disclaimer-You know how it goes-I don't own Band of Brothers, but this story is mine. :)

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Chapter 1-_Chocolat_

I moved through the rows of bloody, broken soldiers and waited for someone to call for me. For now, it seemed, the men were fine. Not fine, I corrected myself. A lot of these men were barely hanging on as they fought to stay alive.

I came across a doctor changing one soldier's dressings. The patient had a gaping wound in his leg, and I looked away. Silently, the doctor handed me the bloody rags and applied fresh ones. I had seen wounds like this before, but I never got used to it. As I made my way to the front of the sanctuary, I saw another soldier being carried in as a medic followed after. I directed them to place the wounded man to the side and out of the way of movement.

"Is he bad?" I asked, glancing over the new patient.

"No-low leg wound. No morphine," the medic replied with a shiver.

I moved to leave when the medic called, "Nurse! Nurse, you got plasma I can-"

"Wait! Please!" I snapped, taking more bloody bandages from another doctor. A lot of men were in worse shape, I figured, and this one could wait a moment. After taking more bandages from Augusta, who was working on a soldier with multiple bullet wounds, I lowered the rags into the boiling pot of water to be cleaned. I brought a bottle of hooch and gave a glass to the paratrooper, stroking his hair. As he sipped, the trooper quipped, "I'm in heaven, Doc."  
The medic began to speak, but I cut him off by leading him to the storage room. "This way. I can give you a little, but not a lot."

I gave as much as I could, most of which included bandages made out of sheets from the beds. In my mind it wasn't enough to make a difference, but at least it was something.

"_Comment vous appellez-vous?"_

"…my name is Renee…"

"My name is Gene. Eugene Roe."

I didn't recognize his accent. "Where are you from?"

"Louisiana. Half Cajun. _Et tu_? _Tu es d'où ?_"

"Bastogne..." I unwittingly replied, then caught myself. Bastogne was as far from home as I could get.

I smiled as she watched him run out to go back to the lines. It had been so long since I had talked with someone in my native language. I held a chocolate bar in my hands and told myself it was pointless to get attached to one of them. What would happen if he came in here as wounded as these men are?

My heart skipped a beat as I ran up the stairs and into the sunlight.

"Eugene!" He stopped and turned as I tossed him the chocolate. "_Chocolat. Por vou_."

I watched as he drove off, then turned to return to work with a smile on my face.

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I lit the candle beside my cot and climbed under the green GI blanket. I only had a couple hours to catch up on sleep before I had to be back with the patients. I pulled out my journal, a gift from Papa, and ran my fingers over the leather. I turned to the photos of my family I used to bookmark where I left off. I looked at them every time I opened the journal. The first was of a young couple standing outside a small cottage with their new baby-Mama and Papa. On the back, Renee read, "Gerard and Marguerite Le Maire, with Etienne, 1919". I could never get over how much Etienne grew up to resemble Papa. The next photo showed three children, the back of which read, "Etienne, Renee, and Ila Le Maire, 1926". Etienne was now 7, and already looking mischievous. I looked proud and held my brand new little sister. She was bundled in my arms like a sleeping doll. 

I took out my pencil and, just like every day, wrote out how many patients we lost-20 men, 9 of which were gone on arrival. Overall, it wasn't a bad day. There were some days I lost count of the number of men we couldn't help. Before I knew it, my mind strayed to the medic that came in. I gave a half smile, and then simply wrote on the next line "Eugene Roe".


	2. Chapter 2: 1926  Sheep and Cake

**Chapter 2-1926: Sheep and Cake**

The dream was so vivid; I could swear Mama was right beside me. Her blonde hair danced in the wind as she draped the clean wash on the line. I was suddenly five years old and watching Ila for Mama while she worked. My sister crawled unsteadily as I rocked my doll and sang. "Look, Mama! I can sing my baby to sleep, too!"

"_Lapine_, you sing like an angel! May I join you?" Mama sat on the ground beside me and took Ila up on her knee as we started the song from the beginning.

"_C'est la poulette grise_

_Qui pond dans l'église,_

_Elle va pondre un petit coco_

_Pour son petit qui va fair dodiche._

_Elle va pondre un petit coco_

_Pour son petit qui va fair dodo._

_Dodiche, dodo._

_C'est la poulette brune_

_Qui pond dans la lune._

_C'est la poulette blanche_

_Qui pond dans les branches."_

"You know," Mama smiled, "my mother used to sing this song with me, and now I get to sing it with both you and Etienne."

"And Ila! Can I teach our lullaby to Ila?" I asked.

"Of course you may, _lapine_! I can't sing as beautifully as you do." Mama watched as I sang with Ila, humming along as she bounced the baby on her knee.

My family lived on a modest piece of land outside Épernay. The previous war tore France apart, and Mama and Papa lost their fathers and brothers before the war ended. Papa suffered a wound in the back which left him with a noticeable limp, but he was alive. The cottage and land belonged to his brother before the war. After returning home, Papa married Mama and they moved into the cottage and Papa found work at the lumberyard in town.

Mama stood up. "Come, Ila, should we go check on dinner? Papa should be home soon, Renee. Will you watch for him and tell me when arrives? I have a surprise for his birthday."

"Yes, Mama!" I giggled. I felt special being in on a secret not even Papa knew about. I ran to the big tree by the road to watch for him, but he was already here. He walked as fast as he could with Etienne in tow, clearly very upset. I barely got inside before Papa and cried out, "He's here! He's here!"

Papa opened the door and sat Etienne down at the table. "What were you thinking? Do you know how much money they could have lost?"

"What happened?" Mama asked, concerned. "Wasn't Etienne supposed to be picking stones out of the Laroque's field?"

"He was, but he felt it necessary to free their sheep from their pen before coming home," Papa shouted. The more angry Papa got, the harder it was for Mama to keep from laughing. "Etienne, why would you do such a thing??"

"The sheep don't deserve to be penned up! They should be free like we are!" Etienne replied matter-of-factly. Papa smiled and shook his head in amazement. "It is a good thing we were able to herd them back before we lost them all! Who knows how long Etienne would have had to work there to pay them back?"

Mama laughed. "I think it is about time for Papa's birthday gifts. Renee, would you like to give your gift first? I nodded and ran to the room I shared with Ila, returning with a drawing I had made that morning. I handed it to Papa and crawled up on his lap.

"_Lapine_, its wonderful! Everyone is here-Me, you, Mama, Etienne, and Ila." He kissed my head. "I'll hang it up as soon as I can."

"Me next!" Etienne called. He pulled out a wrapped package and handed it to Papa proudly. Before Papa could finish unwrapping it, my brother shouted, "It is a hat! I told Mr. Laroque he could pay me for all the work I've been doing for him with one of his old hats. I hope you like it! Mama even patched up the holes so its good as new!" Papa took the hat and pulled it on his head. It was dark brown with a red patch Mama sewed on the back. "Now people will see me coming and think I'm Mr. Laroque!" Papa joked. He patted Etienne on the head and thanked him.

"I have a surprise myself," Mama declared as she pulled a cake out from under a towel on the counter. "Make a wish!" Papa stood up and kissed her on the cheek. It wasn't very often we had cake in the house. My brother and I squealed with delight. Papa cleared his throat. "I know exactly what I want to wish for." He looked at Etienne, "I wish my son will find some way to help the world with his compassion for others." He turned to me, "I hope Renee will sing and make people happy with her voice. And for Ila…NURSE!"

I stared at Papa, confused. He was still smiling, but his voice was urgent and echoed in my head. "NURSE! I NEED A NURSE!"

I opened my eyes to find myself in a small stone room. The yelling continued from down the hall. Augusta popped her head in the room and motioned for me to follow her. I sat up and slipped my shoes on. It was time to go back to work.


	3. Chapter 3: The Last Goodbye

I don't own Band of Brothers, or Renee for that matter. But the story, she is mine. :)

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Chapter 3-The Last Goodbye

A couple of days later, I heard planes overhead while I was counting our supplies. I sat in the storeroom, waiting for the bombing to start. The soldiers outside started yelling, and I ran up the stairs to see boxes floating to the ground. It was a drop with our supplies. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to find more help moving boxes inside. In no time the storeroom was full and ready for more wounded to come in.

I was making my rounds, moving up and down the rows of men, when I felt someone grab my apron and pull me toward them. I heard a voice call out, "Nurse…nurse, help me…" He was brought in that morning before the drop, but I had not seen him yet. He began to speak louder, "Nurse! Nurse! Oh God…please help!" I sat down beside him and took his hand. If he got any louder, there would have been no telling how far the men's morale would have dropped. I had to keep him quiet.

I looked into the soldier's eyes, and I gasped as I saw what looked to be Etienne staring up at me. His blonde hair was matted the way my brother's used to be when he first woke up. His eyes were as blue as Papa's eyes had once been. He had the same thin lips. But unlike Etienne, his bottom lip was quivering. His gaze was far away and sad. The man began to sob and held on to my hand tighter. I bit my bottom lip and tried to remind myself that this man was not my brother. But, in a way, I needed it to be Etienne. I had to let him go.

I leaned down next to the man, looking into his eyes, and I softly and gently sang the lullaby Mama used to sing to us. The man closed his eyes, but I kept singing. His sobbing turned into shallow breaths, which gave way to a deep sigh as he passed away. I ran my hand over his hair and whispered goodbye. My mourning was short lived, however.

"Could someone give us a hand over here?"

I ran to the front of the room and followed the most critically wounded into the next room. "This one! In here, now!" I began tearing his shirt open. I glanced up to see Eugene Roe, the medic from a few days ago, wiping blood away to see how bad his wounds were. "The artery. We've got to find the artery," he said as his hand disappeared into the open hole in the man's stomach. I placed a rag over Eugene's hand to try and stop the bleeding. I called out for help and Augusta rushed in to hold the man's legs. As Eugene shoved his hand in deeper, the man's body jerked on the table. I heard him gurgle, and then the room became silent. I looked up at the soldier and realized he had died. Eugene pulled his hand out and threw down the bloody bandage with a yell.

I looked into his eyes and bit my lip as I felt the tears well up in my own. I could see he felt the same as I did; sometimes we did not even get the chance to help. For every five men we could save, it seemed another twenty died. His look turned from anger to remorse. I turned and wiped my hands off on a clean rag, grabbed my coat, and went outside in record time. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me cry. I stepped into the bright sunlight and closed my eyes tight. A pair of hands rested on my shoulders, and I knew it was Eugene.

"_Je suis désolé,"_ he apologized softly. He did not have to tell me he was sorry. I understood fully well how hard it was for the both of us. I reached up and touched his hand softly, then walked to a nearby chair thrown outside in the rubble from the shelling and sat down. Eugene took a seat next to me and we sat in silence for several moments.

It was Eugene who spoke first. "Where does she come from?" I stared at him. "The black girl." He meant Augusta. I looked down at my hands and replied, "The Congo."

"How did she get here?"

"The same as me." I took in a sharp breath and looked back at the cathedral. "She came to help." I needed to come up with a way to change the subject. I remembered the chocolate bar in my pocket and pulled it out, offering some to Eugene. "_Chocolat?_"

I tore the wrapper off the bar a bit more and broke a piece off when I heard Eugene let out a laugh. "What?"

"Your hands."

I looked down. "My hands?" I began trying to wipe off the blood from around my fingernails.

Eugene just smiled and said reassuringly, "You're a good nurse."

I scoffed and pulled my kerchief off, my mind returning to the man who died while I sang our lullaby. I stated, "I never want to treat another wounded man again. I would rather work in a butcher's shop."

He went on. "But your touch calms people. And that's a gift from God."

"Its not a gift. God would never give such a painful thing." I couldn't remember the last time I attended mass, let alone prayed to God for anything. I could feel the tears coming again. I broke off a piece of chocolate and offered it to Eugene, who turned it down. He watched me as I bit into the chocolate. I felt comfortable with Eugene because he understood what I was going through yet uncomfortable at the same time. What use was there getting to know this man when we just saw how quickly life could be taken away?

"Nurse! Nurse! We need some help over here!"

The call was a welcome relief. I ran to the Jeep. "How bad is it?" As I helped carry one of the men in, I glanced at Eugene as he stood and moved toward the cathedral. He gave a small smile, but I kept on moving the soldier inside. As I bandaged the man's wound I saw Eugene grab his supplies and head outside.

"Augusta, can you finish with him? I'll be right back." I ran outside in time to help Eugene load his boxes into the back of the Jeep. I reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. He squeezed mine in return, and I smiled. He hopped on the back of the Jeep and waved to me as they drove off.

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That night I pulled out my journal and opened to my brother's smiling face looking up at me. I wrote neatly beside his picture, "13 dead. Goodbye, Etienne." 


	4. Chapter 4: Dunkirk

Your reviews have been splendid! Thank you for reading :)

I don't own Band of Brothers, or Renee for that matter. Everything else is mine.

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Chapter 4-Dunkirk

I stared at Etienne's name on the page. It seemed strange that his name was all that was left of him. I flipped to the front of the book and read the first few lines. There were no body counts or numbers of men we lost. I tried to remember what it was like back then.

_**Sunday 30 June 1940**_

_Papa saved up a lot of money to buy this present, and I can't stop thanking him. He told me when he gave me this journal over a week ago for my birthday that I should begin my story when I feel ready. I didn't understand what he meant until now. _

_The past month has been hell. After the first war, the politicians in France believed Germany would never rise again. Not only have they pulled themselves to full strength, they seized their neighboring countries in an attempt to grow more powerful. The French army raced to the east to face Hitler's troops head on. They passed through Épernay at the beginning of the month, and we provided what help we could. Papa said it was his duty as a soldier of the first war. The soldiers slept in our barn and were very grateful when we gave them fresh vegetables from the garden before they left. It wasn't long before Germany overpowered our men and pushed them back. Planes have been dropping papers telling French citizens to go about their daily routines. Any opposition to the German troops will result in death. The Germans have taken the entire country with the help of their planes. We go into town as little as possible to avoid any confrontations with the German soldiers stationed there._

_The German invasion is not the reason I'm writing. Etienne has decided he wants to join du Gaulle in the resistance against the Germans and their imposed government in Vichy. _

I gave a soft gasp, my heart racing. I surprised myself with how vividly I remembered that day even today. I continued reading.

_We were walking home from mass this morning when Etienne mentioned it in passing. He brought up du Gaulle's speech we heard on the radio, and said he and Victor Laroque thought they should head to Paris and see if they needed any help. Papa stopped walking and leaned against a fence by the road. Etienne had been helping Papa around the farm, especially after he was laid off from the lumberyard because of the depression. Papa has also been having a hard time walking from his back injury-it takes everything he has to walk to mass once a week. My brother took over Papa's chores on the farm; feeding the chickens, harvesting, and shearing the sheep. If Etienne left, it could hurt the entire family._

I took a deep breath and then turned to the next entry.

_**Monday 1 July 1940**_

_Etienne and Papa finally spoke to each other this morning. Ila and I were washing clothes and hanging them out to dry. I heard Papa yell something from behind the house, and Ila and I snuck to the corner to listen._

_Papa said Etienne only thought of himself and did not care if the rest of the family suffered. My brother replied, "I am thinking of the betterment of France! How is that selfish?" Papa reminded him that Mama had been sick lately, and Ila and I could not run the farm ourselves. Etienne walked away. I don't want him to go either, but when he gets a thought in his head it becomes hard to stop him._

_**Tuesday 2 July 1940**_

_Last night Ila and I woke up to Etienne coming in our room. He shook me awake and told me he was leaving. Ila spoke up then, and asked what was going on. She came and sat on my bed, and Etienne told us his plan. _

_He and Victor Laroque were headed for Paris that night. If they could get to Meaux they could get a ride the rest of the way to the city. They had arranged to meet with one of the leaders of the Resistance in a couple of days. He left a note for Mama and Papa on the table to tell them what they needed to know._

_I told him it was foolish to go. He has no training and he could get killed. He pulled me into a hug and whispered, "I'm coming back for you, Lapine. Just hold on. I'm doing this for us." He turned and hugged Ila. "Take care of Mama and Papa. Tell them both I love them" He slipped out of our room, and we heard the front door close. Just like that, my great protector was gone. I prayed that God keep him and Victor safe, and one day allow him safe return to his family. _

_When Papa read the note, he was furious. Mama cried and cried, and not even Ila could console her. Papa called for me, and I helped with his chores this morning. I carried firewood and helped harvest for him. _

Etienne protected both Ila and me the way only a brother could. We would joke and pick on each other, it was true, but he was the first person I went to if I was in any trouble. We used to sing together while doing chores. It never occurred to me that he might not be there for me in the future.

I flipped ahead a few pages to a later entry and continued reading.

_**Friday 11 April 1941**_

_We received a letter today from Etienne. While all his previous correspondence told us he was doing fine and that we shouldn't worry, we now learn that Etienne will be coming home to visit! He said he wanted to say goodbye to Mama before she passed away. The doctor came again late yesterday afternoon and informed us she had gotten worse. She looks pale and gets chills. We were told to keep her as comfortable as possible. We have all come to terms with her leaving us. We trust that God will take away her pain and watch over her._

_When we got the letter, I crawled in bed next to Mama and read it out loud to her. She smiled faintly. We said a prayer together then I left to prepare dinner. We ate sitting with Mama in her room. Ila fed her what soup she could stomach. None of us can wait for Etienne to get home. Even Papa is excited, even if he doesn't want us to know._

_**Sunday 13 April 1941**_

_Etienne is here! He arrived just a couple hours ago, around 10 at night. Mama was so happy to see him tears ran down her cheeks. Papa shook his hand and welcomed him home. I know he's my brother, but he looks as if he aged ten years. He has a scar across his forehead he keeps trying to hide under his hat so we won't see. His voice is low and he speaks slow and deliberate. I could not imagine what he has gone through. We're just glad to have him home._

_He told us as much as he could, which wasn't a lot. He said he's living with a family in town with 2 daughters, and he's quite fond of the eldest named Fabienne. During the day he works at a small store on a street corner. He would not tell us what he does at night. _

_We swapped stories for about an hour, then Etienne told us the main reason he came home. He has arranged a way for us to escape German occupation and live in England! He has the entire timetable planned out. If we leave tomorrow night and travel for 4 days we can reach Dunkirk. There is a boat that will be waiting to bring French citizens to London for a fee. Etienne paid our way with the money he makes at the corner store. He said we must leave tomorrow night in order to meet the boat on time. The plan sounds like it will work, but Papa said he won't go. He decided he is in no shape to be traveling, especially with a deadline such as this one. He also added that he would rather stay with his wife and say goodbye to her. We sat quietly for some time. I didn't think about Mama and Papa not being able to go with us. _

_Papa stood up and hugged Etienne and told him how proud he was of him. My brother's eyes flashed and, for a second, I thought I could see the same mischievous boy I once knew. He hugged Ila next, telling her to be brave. When he embraced me, he said, "Lapine, take care of your sister, mind your brother, and remember where you came from. Sing for us, Renee, and we'll hear you in heaven." I almost cried, but I knew if there was ever a time to be strong this was it._

_I'm scared, but so excited! I'll write again when we reach Dunkirk! _

I closed my journal, slipped it under my pillow, and stared at the ceiling. I found it hard to sleep that night. I could not even remember that girl who wrote those entries anymore. Where had Renee gone?


	5. Chapter 5: Home

I don't own Band of Brothers, or Renee for that matter. The story, however, is mine. :)**  
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Chapter 5-Home

I went back to work, but my mind seemed to be elsewhere. My hands replaced bandages, held soldier's hands, and put in IVs; my thoughts, however, remained on a certain medic. I was bringing bandages for Augusta's patient when I noticed him standing near the door and looking off in the distance. I was happy to see him, but I could tell something was wrong. It seemed the whole church could have collapsed around him and he would have never noticed.

"Eugene?" He turned to me slowly. He looked like a ghost of himself-just a mere shell of the person he once was. "Eugene? Are you-"

"Renee?" A doctor called from the back of the room.

My focus remained on the medic. "Are you-"

"Renee! I need some help here!"

"Are you all right?"

"Renee!"

I gestured to Eugene that I would be right back, and I rushed to the back to help the doctor. When I returned to where the paratrooper had been standing, he was gone. I grabbed my coat and stepped outside to catch him, only to find Eugene looking over the rows of dead soldiers we couldn't save. I reached up and sat my hand on his shoulder. He didn't move, but his body slowly relaxed as he spoke, "They look so peaceful…"

I could see it in his eyes, my hand slipping from its perch. Like many men who came through our makeshift hospital for care, being wounded became a blessing. It was an opportunity to come off the line, stay inside, and maybe earn a ticket home. On the other hand, a soldier may be brought in and not make it. But they still earned the peace and quiet they deserved after seeing firsthand the effects of war. Life was no longer about where we came from or our dreams for the future. We lived life day to day. If we survived we worked to live another day.

We stood in silence for several moments. I reached for his hand, his fingers chilled to the bone. I whispered, "Please be careful."

"Doc! Are you headed back to the line?"

Gene turned around and shouted, "Yeah. Give me a sec." He leaned in and kissed my head. "You're the closest thing to home I have," he said. Then he turned and headed for the truck.

I was speechless. My legs were wobbly as I made my way back to the cathedral.

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"But what if more wounded come in? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if you were short handed tonight-""Renee, I insist. You've earned the night off!" Doc Jones declared. My fighting proved to be pointless-no amount of arguing would have kept me in that hospital on Christmas Eve. 

"Father Daniels is holding mass right now for the soldiers who want it, then he's going to a house down the street and hold one there for whoever else wants to come. You're Catholic, aren't you?" I was, but the thought of attending mass never crossed my mind.

I returned to my room and pulled a nice dress from my bag, along with a small cloth pouch. After dressing, I opened the pouch and peeked at my rosary. I tucked the pouch in the pocket of my coat and left to meet Father Daniels. He met me at the front door of the hospital, and we made our way down the road to a shabby looking house to the north. Father Daniels laid out his tools and Bible on a table while some of the men started a fire in the fireplace. I sat in the back with a small elderly woman who smiled wide. She braved the cold and terrain to make it to the service, and I was amazed by her.

As Father Daniels went into his homily, I bowed my head and said a prayer quietly to myself. "I know I haven't prayed in quite some time," I thought, "but please watch over the men on the line tonight. Remind them of what they're fighting for. Reassure them that everything is going to be fine. Please send my love to Mama, Papa, Ila, and Etienne." I stopped and took a deep breath. "And please watch over Eugene Roe. He needs your guidance and love tonight…and he's the only family I have left."

The service was almost over when the rest of the congregation and I heard planes flying overhead. Someone let out a scream, and I ran out the door. All around me, anti-aircraft guns fired toward the sky as I ran back to the hospital. I needed to get to the patients in the hospital-there was no telling what kind of work needed to be done. A bomb zeroed in on the cathedral as it came into view and blew the roof open in a fiery explosion. I watched as the building collapsed into a pile of rubble. I moved up to where the front door once was and looked at the pile of fallen wood that stood in my way. There was no telling how many lives were lost in that church-soldiers, doctors, and nurses. It occurred to me suddenly that my belongings were also in that church. I began pulling at the wood, trying to find some way inside. As I struggled to get inside, tears ran down my cheeks. I backed away slowly, my hands bleeding. Another bomb landed behind me, and I jumped. I needed to find shelter.

"Miss! Miss, are you all right?" A soldier on a jeep behind me called. "Come on! I'll get you out of here!" He pulled the jeep up behind me. As he tried to pull me to the jeep, I kept struggling and crying. He didn't understand that the cathedral had become my home, and now I had nowhere to go. He sat me down in the jeep and pulled away. As we turned the corner and sped away I saw a lone soldier running toward the cathedral and stopping at the front door where I had been just moments before. The man yelled out over the sound of the bombing, "I'll get you someplace safe, get your hands bandaged up!" I tried to say thank you, but it only came out a sob.


	6. Chapter 6: Turned Tables

Your reviews have all been lovely. Thank you for reading! I'm pretty excited to see how the story ends up myself!

Disclaimer-I don't own Band of Brothers, or Renee for that matter. But the story is mine. :)

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Chapter 6-Turned Tables

The next few days flew by like a blur in part because I slept through most of it. There was no shelling or men calling for a nurse, and I found myself wrapped up in my thoughts as well as a warm blanket. The man who picked me up at the cathedral brought me to a makeshift aid station in a house on the edge of town for those wounded from the bombing. He bandaged my hands, and left to help the others coming in for help. I slipped in and out of sleep as wounded soldiers were brought in and treated. But the men who were brought in were never under my care. The soldiers downstairs took care of everything. Yet as thankful as I was that I was free from the work, I could not help but remember that no matter what war was always around me.

It was strange to be on the other side of the situation-to be the one helped instead of helping. It all reminded me of the St. Francis prayer I learned as a child. I recited the last few lines in my head, "O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive…" I fell into my role as a nurse, and now it seemed I had made it my life's work. However, my experiences in nursing did not come with lessons on how to ask for help when I needed it. I made it this far on my own, I told myself. I had to keep living as I had been before-one day at a time.

The morning of the 27th I cleaned myself up, pulled on my coat, and made my way downstairs. In the foyer sat a handful of soldiers and their sergeant. There was no sign of the wounded men at all. For a moment, I thought I had imagined them at the house. Then Sergeant Mathews stood up and shook my hand.

"Well! Good to see you up and moving around," he said. "We just moved the last of the wounded out, and we're headed back to the line ourselves. We were wondering how you were faring."

The sergeant was about my age, but he appeared so run down he could have passed for ten years our senior. I saw soldiers like him come in and out of the hospital when I was on duty. It was strange to see a soldier unwounded for a change. He ran his fingers through his dirty hair and pulled his helmet on.

I started, "I'm sorry if I caused any trouble. I've got my belongings and I'll just be on my way-"

"On your way? We can give you a ride," the sergeant interrupted. "Where are you headed?"

"Actually, I was a nurse in the cathedral. I thought I-"

"You would what? You're not going out on your own. Not in this weather! Patton and his troops just moved into the area, along with a first-rate aid station. Those places always need nurses. Let me see what I can do," Sergeant Mathews rattled off. Without waiting for a response, Mathews stepped into the next room and hopped on the radio. I eyed the other men in the room and couldn't believe they were headed for the line. They all looked so young. I didn't want to see any of them get hurt-their ODs weren't even dirty yet.

Mathews came back in and grabbed his gear. "Its all been arranged. You'll ride with our unit and we'll drop you off at the aid station on the way. You'll report to Lieutenant Wagner and she will get you situated with a uniform."

I was speechless. "Its all right if I stay there? Th-thank you, sir," I stammered.

"Normally they don't accept displaced persons in a position like this," Mathews warned, "but they're short nurses and I told them you have a lot of experience. Don't mess this up." With that, he signaled his men and they were out the door. I followed right behind them to the jeeps. I wasn't sure I liked the idea of heading back to a hospital because I didn't like seeing men wounded and in pain. But, if heading to the aid station meant getting away from rude Sergeant Mathews, I was all for it.

The ride to the station was a cold one. I lost my kerchief somewhere during the bombing and now wished I had something to cover my head. We drove over a hill and into a small valley where rows and rows of tents had been set up. Everything looked organized and regulated, which was a welcome change. A nurse with fiery red hair met us when we pulled up. She carried a clipboard and a stern look on her face. "You must be Renée," She spat. "We don't have a lot of time, so the tour will be fast. Then you can get changed and in the trenches, so to speak. Follow me."

We walked between two rows of tents. "We divide the areas into three conditions. To the left we have the critically wounded. To the right, stable wounded…and around the corner here we have walking wounded. We have operating rooms attached at the end of both the critical and stable units." She led me inside the first of the walking wounded tents. "The tents are lined up side by side, with doors in between to allow movement through all of them." There were cots for every man, and everything was clean and organized. I opened my mouth to ask a question, but the look on her face told me she wasn't interested.

Lt. Wagner then took me to the last tents in the back. "These are where we stay. You'll be staying with Dottie, Betty, and Helen. I know you don't know how the American army works, but they'll show you the ropes. Change into your uniform and meet me in the stable unit." She walked away, almost with a click in her heels. I took off my coat and changed into a fresh uniform. The layers kept me nice and warm. I wondered what the other girls were like, and hoped they were nothing like Lt. Wagner. I pulled my rosary out of my coat pocket and slipped it into the pocket of my uniform.

"Thank you God," I prayed, "for bringing me this far." I looked out the window as the snow blew across the camp. "And, please, keep an eye on Eugene." I pulled on my uniform coat and went back to work.


	7. Chapter 7: On The Move

Sorry about the long time between chapters. Work has been keeping me busy! And thank you for all your kind reviews.

Disclaimer-I do not own BoB. :)

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Chapter 7-On the Move

"All right, spill the beans. You kissed him, didn't you?"

I laughed as I pulled on my hat. I had been living with the girls for about 2 weeks and it felt good to have someone to talk to. They welcomed me with open arms, regaling me with stories of life back in the United States and how they joined up. Our duffle bags sat half filled on our beds as we collected the last of our belongings.

"No, no, enough about this medic you keep talking about!" Dottie exclaimed. "I want to hear how you ended up in Bastogne. I hear there's nothing left of that place."

I cleared my throat. "Well…I-"

"Ladies, this is no time for chit chat!" Lt. Wagner yelled as she rushed into our tent. "We have to move camp, reset the tents, and get ready for incoming wounded! I will not hold up the rest of the unit for the four of you!" She turned and left, practically turning on her heels. We all looked at each other and laughed.

I smiled. "I would really like to see her take care of all the incoming men by herself. She needs us and she knows it."

"That's the spirit!" Helen said. "I'm so glad to see you at ease instead of on edge like when you first got here."

We tossed our duffle bags over our shoulders and carried them to the truck. After the last of the tents were loaded up, I sat with the girls in the back of the jeep.

"Here we go again! Off to do our part against Hitler!" Helen giggled and settled in to her seat.

I was lucky to have found such a great group of girls to work with. Helen was a blonde firecracker from Savannah, Georgia. The other girls called her a "southern belle", though they never did explain what that meant. She had a very comforting touch the soldiers loved. Dottie joked that Helen's touch cured more than just battlefield wounds, if we got her drift. There was a rumor going around the unit that Helen and a certain doctor had a love affair going, but the way she flirted with all the able-bodied men in camp her beau could have been anyone. Dottie was the most motherly of the group. She kept her dark hair pinned up in a bun most of the time, and her smile melted the hearts of even the coldest hearted soldiers. When I was new in camp, she offered a listening ear and her toiletries so I could clean myself up. I talked with her about what I had seen in Bastogne while at the cathedral. She didn't try to understand; she just listened. Dottie kept Helen from sneaking away to meet a new flame every night so she could work the next morning. She was equally caring for the men. I was told her Midwest upbringing gave her a lot of experience-she was one of 8 children. Little Betty was the quietest and shyest nurse in the whole unit. Most times she was too nervous to speak to the soldiers, but she made up for her lack of social skills with her abundance of knowledge and efficiency in the operating room. Doctors could depend on Betty to not only change a soldier's dressing, but save a man's life on the table without breaking a sweat. She saw the Army as her chance to find herself and her purpose in the world. She read almost constantly, sending books she couldn't carry with her back home to Maine.

We hit the road, our jeep toward the middle of the caravan. Betty sat towards the back, reading her latest book. Helen and Dottie talked about where we were headed and if we would get to stay inside for a change. I was content to just be in the company of real friends.

"How much further is it?" Betty asked softly.

"It can't be more than just a few more miles," I replied.

"Man, I can't wait until we get to Noville! I hear we're picking up a few new doctors there!"

"Helen, our first job is to take care of the wounded. You can worry about cuddling up with the new men later," smiled Dottie.

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After arriving at our new camp, we spent the entire afternoon setting up tents. Betty helped set up the operating tents and surgery tables. Dottie sat up the beds for the men. Helen and I were in charge of setting up the housing tents for the nurses and doctors. 

"So, you never answered my question. Did you kiss this medic you're so gaga about?" Helen spouted.

I smiled. "No, I never really kissed him. He kissed my head and that was it."

"And you haven't seen him since that day in Bastogne?"

"No. I try not to think about it…"

Helen was quiet for a bit, and then let out a shriek. "I've got it! I've got the perfect plan! What if we found him and brought you two back together?"

I stood dumbfounded. "What? We can't find him. I don't even know what unit he's in!"

Helen ignored my comments. "We know a lot of doctors! Surely they know the medics in the area! I could talk to Billy, he would tell me!" She dropped the rope in her hand and took off running to where the doctors were setting up.

I finished with the last tent on my own and carried my duffel to our shared home. Dottie was already in there making her bed.

"Helen said she wants to find Eugene." I stated plainly.

Dottie sat on her bed and look at me. "Go on."

"I'm scared. I want to see him, but what if he was wounded? What if he forgot about me? I wouldn't even know what to say to him." I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down, and Dottie cleared her throat.

"Listen. I know you've got this belief that we have to live one day at a time, and I agree with you to a point. But I also think that you need each other. I've heard you praying each night before you go to bed. I know you care a lot about him. From what I can tell, he cares about you too. Maybe he's the reason you're still working to live one day at a time-not just for your survival, but his."

Her words floored me. She was not the kind of person to give advice, but deep down I knew she was right. Helen and Betty came in giggling and broke the silence. Helen started talking about a new doctor she met, Dottie warned her about getting involved with another fling, and Betty neatly arranged the pictures in her foot locker.

I sat and wondered how Eugene was faring.


	8. Chapter 8: The Delivery

I don't own BoB, but I do own a new package of cookies. :)

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Chapter 8-The Delivery

The plan to find Eugene sat on the back burner as soldiers flooded our small camp. Any spare moment we had where we weren't treating the men were spent collapsed on our beds in a deep sleep. Betty spent most of her time in the O.R. tent. She used to say, "I have the easy job-I help patch them up. You girls have to keep them alive after that." Helen buckled down and hardly said a word to any of the doctors and worked diligently through the night shifts. Dottie worked best in the stable unit, keeping the men in line with tough love and reassurance. I worked in the critical unit, tending to the men just out of surgery.

We spent an entire day loading up men to head back to England for more treatment. Around five that evening the four of us sprawled out on our beds, excited to have a moment to relax. The moment was ruined, however, when Lt. Wagner stormed in the tent. She shout practically threw us from our beds.

"Ladies! We've been ordered to re-supply the line. I need a volunteer to join myself and Dr. Pearson. No takers? Renee, bundle up. Let's go!" She turned and left as quickly as she came in.

"She doesn't even give us time to breathe!" Helen whined as she curled up on her bed. I stood up and grabbed my jacket and helmet. Betty spoke softly, "The trip should be quick. I wouldn't worry about it." Dottie agreed, "Renée, just go and have fun." Helen peeked out from under her blanket and shot Dottie a look, who just rolled her eyes and pulled her own covers up higher.

Fun? With Lt. Wagner? They must really be exhausted, I thought. The truck was parked by the main road. Pearson sat behind the steering wheel with Wagner in the passenger seat. I climbed in the back. "Don't we need to get the supplies?" I asked.

"We've done that already. Let's go, Pearson."

The jeep sped down the road, its passengers bouncing with each bump.

Wagner spoke over the roar of the engine. "So Miss LeMaire, I've heard your friends have been looking for a medic on the front line you met in Bastogne." I swore softly to myself. Wagner ruled the camp with an iron fist; the last thing I wanted was for her to know more about me than she needed. "Yes, ma'am," I replied, "It was sweet of them to want to help."

"Have they found him?"

I pulled my coat around me tighter and answered bitterly, "I don't think anyone has had a lot of time for anything outside of work, ma'am." I knew the care of the men came first, but we found it hard to care for others when we barely had time to take care of ourselves.

Lt. Wagner chuckled. The rest of the trip the three of us sat in silence. We pulled up in front of a small convent towards the center of town. The windows let off an inviting soft glow.

"Renée, why don't you head inside? You look like you're freezing." Pearson remarked. I could not remember myself shivering at all. Where did he get the impression I was cold?

"What about the supplies, sir? Where are the men staying tonight?" I replied.

"The men are quartered in the buildings along this main road. The lieutenant and I will take the supplies around and come back and get you when its time to go." I sighed with frustration. They ran the nurses ragged, then pulled me away to help deliver supplies when I could have been resting. I was glad they offered to take the supplies themselves; I welcomed the fact that it gave me a chance to get away from them for a while.

I pushed open the door to the convent and felt my anger melt away with the warmth of the hall. The path was lit with candles on both walls, and the sound of a choir echoed from the last door on the right. I walked slowly down the hall, remembering the cathedral in Bastogne and the men who filled the halls with cries and sobs rather than an angelic chorus of singing.

I reached the room the singing was coming from, and leaned against the doorway as I peered inside. In the front of the room was a choir of girls conducted by one of the sisters. They performed for the soldiers that filled the pews. The men looked like beaten dogs, a sad combination of sorrow and relief to finally be inside. No one smiled; they listened to the choir and relaxed in the warmth and company of each other.

It was then that I saw him. He sat in a pew across the room from me. He stared off into space as the choir continued to sing. Around him some of the men whispered, but he didn't seem to notice any of it. I was relieved to see he was alright. I lost track of how long I stood looking at him, remembering every conversation we had and touch we shared. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Lt. Wagner standing with a smile on her face.

"Helen tried asking every soldier she could what company they were in and who their medic was. Even little Betty searched through the men's files for some kind of clue as to where he could be found. I caught Betty one afternoon while she was digging, and asked her how I could help. I didn't realize I was so mean on you girls-Betty almost started crying when I walked in the room," Lt. Wagner smiled. "I just had to help them out; Lord knows they wouldn't have been able to get you here without my help." I stood silent. "You're one of the best nurses I've ever seen. You deserve this."

It all clicked into place. There were no supplies-I was the delivery. I looked back at Eugene and saw him looking back at me. Our talking must have got his attention. My heart raced as we locked eyes. When he shook his head, looked away, and rubbed his eyes I was scared he had forgotten me. I reached up my hand and gave a little wave, but he didn't move. Lt. Wagner slipped past me and whispered something to one of the soldiers in the pew closest to us. He nodded and walked over to Eugene.

Eugene looked up at the man, back at us, then stood up and walked over to where we were standing. I held on to the door frame to keep myself from falling over. My breathing turned shallow and I swallowed hard. This was the moment I had dreamed of since Christmas Eve, yet I was totally unprepared.

"You needed to see me?" Eugene asked. His voice was strong, but distant.

"Eugene?" I stammered. "Eugene, its me. Renée."

He looked deep into my eyes, as if he were searching for some kind of proof. I pulled off my gloves and, trembling, reached for his hand. His fingers were slender and his skin rough. I couldn't imagine living on the front line for as long as he had. He looked down at my hand, then grasped it in his and turned it over, examining every part of it.

He spoke softly, "Its really you…" He reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek, cupped my face in his hands, leaned down and gently kissed my lips.


	9. Chapter 9: The Tavern and The Nun

Chapter 9-The Tavern and The Nun

I looked into Eugene's eyes, completely lost in them. It felt like I was dreaming and I wasn't really with him at all. Almost on cue, Eugene whispered, "I never thought I would see you again."

I could almost imagine how the two of us looked, standing in a convent hallway in a recently invaded village. Neither of us remembered when the last time was we had showers or truly felt safe from harm. Yet in that moment I felt like that was where I was supposed to be.

"_Tout sera bien. Je suis ici._" Eugene whispered as he stroked my hair. He was right-everything felt like it was going to be ok when I was with him. Behind me I heard Lt. Wagner clear her throat. "I've made arrangements with the sisters to have you stay here for the night. But I expect you back first thing in the morning for work, understand?"

I smiled through my tears and replied, "Yes, ma'am." Wagner turned, met Pearson at the door, and left. Eugene squeezed my hand and went back in where the rest of the men sat. His smile beamed, and it seemed like he lit up the entire room. It was the first time I ever saw him smile. He grabbed his gear and spoke with a couple of the men who were sitting around him. He checked on a wounded man lying in the back and talked with one of the sisters passing through. He returned and reported that my room was down another hallway on the right.

I opened the door, adorned with a small crucifix like the rest of them down that hall. It was a spare cell, like the ones used by the nuns, with a single bed, desk and chair, candlestick, and a picture of Jesus on the cross on the wall above the bed. I showed Eugene in and closed the door behind us. I reached for him and pulled him close; the last thing I wanted to do was let him go. He showered the top of my head with kisses as I breathed a sigh of relief.

Eugene whispered, "Do you know how many times I thought I saw you out on the line? I heard the call for a medic, and when I got there I saw you instead of the men lying in that snow. It nearly got to be too much for me. When I saw you standing in the hallway, I thought I imagined you there." I knew exactly what he meant. I held my tongue and just hugged him tighter. A strong draft blew through the room and the candle flame danced. I moved to the bed and slid under the covers. Eugene climbed on top of the covers, like a perfect gentleman, and draped an arm over me.

We stayed up late telling stories and getting to know each other. He told me about his family in Bayou Chene and his grandmother. "She was a strong woman. You remind me a lot of her, Renée." I learned about his favorite color, what he wanted to be when he was young, the first girl he kissed, and why he joined the airborne. He, in turn, learned the same about me. I told him about Mama and our songs, Ila, my childhood nickname, Papa and his time in the first war, and, of course, about Etienne.

"You were close with your brother, weren't you?" he asked.

"We were very close. He never put me to the side like some siblings do. If he went somewhere, he wanted to take me along. He taught me how to tie my shoes even when he was struggling to master it himself." Eugene laughed. "He was always the first one there if I fell and scraped my knee. Even when we got older and spent more time with our own friends, we still stayed up late talking. He was my best friend."

"What happened?"

I cleared my throat, and Eugene held me tighter. "He joined the Resistance. I wasn't too surprised when I found out about it. My dad hated the idea, however. He snuck out to leave for Paris." I paused, reliving it over in my head. "He came back to visit, though. He said he could get us out of Épernay and up to England. Mama was too sick to go, and Papa wanted to stay back with her. Ila and I left with him that night.

The trip was supposed to last 4 days, with the three of us arriving in Dunkirk by nightfall. That night we met a man who let us hide in the back of his wagon while he traveled through the night to Creil. He and Etienne took turns driving the team, and Ila and I got out and stretched when we stopped to rest the horses. We arrived before noon the next day. In Creil we picked up new clothes and papers from a man Etienne knew from the Resistance. We grabbed another ride, this time to Amiens. We found it hard to entertain ourselves on such a long trip. I brought along needlepoint, but riding in a wagon drawn by horses not only made it hard, but potentially dangerous. Ila brought paper and a pencil and wrote stories and drew pictures. After Amiens we headed for Lens.

Etienne planned on staying in Lens for the night and leaving first thing in the morning. He arranged a room for us to stay in above a tavern in town. I remember it perfectly. Ila and I had put our bags on our bed and Etienne stretched out on his, clearly exhausted from the trip. The window had a black curtain to keep the light out. There was a crash downstairs, and Etienne told us to stay where we were as he went downstairs. Ila and I sat on the floor between our bed and the wall. I had my arm around her and she hid her face and I watched the door on the other side of the room.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall to our room. Someone kicked the door open and my brother landed on the floor. His head was bleeding, and he struggled to breathe. Three German soldiers stood in the doorway. Etienne tried to say something, but the first soldier kicked him in the stomach. The second one made his way toward us. He asked us if we knew Etienne. Ila cried, and I refused to talk. The third soldier told us in broken French that he got a tip there were members of the Resistance upstairs, and they came to investigate. It was the owner of the tavern, the one Etienne struck a deal with, who told the Germans. The second soldier pulled Ila out of my arms and demanded she tell the truth. She just cried. He asked her again, and she continued to cry. He pulled out a handgun and shot her in the head. I screamed and he turned the gun on me. The third soldier said I had two choices; tell them what I knew, or Etienne was going to be killed too.

I looked over at Ila's body. She faced me. Her eyes were closed, and her blood covered the floor. The soldier picked me up by the hair and threw me on the bed, demanding I tell him something. I was shaking so bad the bed rattled. Etienne stayed on the floor. I didn't think he could move. The first man said something in German, then he and the other left and went back downstairs. The man who shot Ila stayed in the room and moved closer to the bed. I knew what he planned to do. I hugged my knees, looking at him then back at Etienne.

The German reached for my shirt at the same time a shot rang through the room. I covered my head as a second shot went off. I looked up to see the dead German on the floor beside Ila. To my right was Etienne with a gunshot wound in his stomach bleeding through his shirt. The German must have seen Etienne pull his gun out and shot him, but Etienne got a shot off himself. I crawled on the floor beside Etienne and ripped open his shirt. I didn't know what I was doing. I held my hands over his wound and tried to stop the bleeding as Etienne's eyes closed. I reached up and felt for a heartbeat and couldn't find one.

I got up and sat on the bed crying for what seemed like forever. I said a prayer for Ila and Etienne. I knew I couldn't stay in the tavern, especially if the Germans were still downstairs. I changed my clothes and packed my few belongings in a makeshift bag. I blew out the candles and opened the window. I was lucky to find the roof of another room in the back of the tavern below our window. I climbed out on the roof and down the lattice on the side of the building and ran to the cathedral in town."

Eugene remained silent. I stared at the ceiling. Eugene's voice made me jump. "How did you end up in Bastogne?"

"I lived in the cathedral in Lens. The priest allowed me to stay there as long as I helped out with chores and with the nuns in the community. I stayed with the nuns, who shared their habits with me so I blended in better. I cleaned every pew and statue, as well as helped the nuns with lessons and sang in the choir on Sundays. The Germans harassed us on occasion when we went out into the community, but I never did see the ones from that night in the tavern. The nuns only knew my family died in the war and I needed someplace to stay. You are the only other person besides the priest who knows what happened that night in the tavern.

I never saw directly the effects of war or how brutal it was until the Americans moved in this fall. The nuns and I saw our fair share of wounded men. The Germans put up a hell of a fight. When we saw our first wounded men, we didn't know what to do. A couple of medics showed us how to stop the bleeding, apply bandages, things like that. When the Americans moved east, I went with one of their hospital units. I was in Bastogne by September. I found myself in the cathedral where we met. The doctors showed me how to treat specific wounds, and I helped them in surgery. When the Germans pushed back through Bastogne last month, I stayed at the cathedral rather than retreating with the hospital unit I joined."

"…you've been through so much." Eugene replied. He thought for a minute, then added, "Do you ever wish you could go home?"

"I don't really have a home anymore. Wherever I feel safe, I call it home for as long as I'm there."

"Do you feel safe now?"

I smiled. "I feel safe when I'm with you."

"We're supposed to be heading back to Mourmelon tomorrow morning. Its not Épernay, but its definitely safe." He leaned in and kissed me gently. "I want you to come with me. I'll get it approved by Winters." He looked deeply in my eyes. "I don't want to lose you again."

I thought of Betty, Dottie, and Helen back at camp and all the wounded soldiers that needed care. "I've often wondered if I could have saved my brother if I would have known what to do when he was shot. I thought I saw him in the face of every soldier that came in to those cathedrals in need of care." My honesty stunned me.

"That's why you should come with us." Eugene sat up. "You've spent all this time living in the past. Do something for yourself."

I sat up and kissed him on the cheek and asked, "What time are we leaving tomorrow?" Eugene smiled and covered my face with kisses. I giggled and kissed him in return. Our laughter filled the room we shared. We slept that night wrapped in each other's arms.

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Thanks again for all your reviews! I've already started work on the next chapter-I can't wait to see how it ends up myself. :) 


	10. Chapter 10: Haguenau

I don't own Band of Brothers, but the story is mine. :) And thanks again for the lovely reviews!

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Chapter 10-France

Eugene and I woke up the next morning to the sound of someone pounding at the door. I sat up in time to see a skinny redhead looking around the room.

"Doc? We're—oh! Sorry, wrong room, Sister."

"Wait!" Eugene sat up. "I'm here! What is it?"

The man looked from Eugene to myself, and then chuckled. "Wow, Doc. Out of the whole company, I never figured you to-"

"Babe, what were you saying when you first came in?"

"Orders changed. We're heading for Haguenau to stop the German push down there," the man answered angrily. Eugene swore in French under his breath. The man continued, "We have to be loaded up in 30 minutes." He tipped his helmet at me with a grin and shut the door as he left. I climbed out of bed and fixed my hair. "Come on, we have to hurry. I want to say goodbye to the girls before we go."

Eugene looked at me and snapped, "Lapine, I don't want to put you in danger. Maybe it would just best if you stay with the hospital unit until we make it back to-"

"Are you serious? Now you don't want me to go with you? _Merde!_ Did it ever occur to you that I've been in the middle of a battle before? I know what war is like! Haguenau is in France; to me, that's one step closer towards the end of the war. I know you want to protect me but the last thing I want is to stay here and try to find the list of casualties from the airborne to see if you're on it!"

"And I want to know you're someplace safe! The front line is no place for a woman, especially one I care about!"

Before I knew it, tears were rolling down my cheeks. I wondered how Eugene could make me cry tears of happiness and frustration all in one day. He climbed out of bed and wrapped me in a hug. I took several deep breaths and said, "I'll find another hospital unit away from the line, or I'll help you out with the wounded men, but I will not be left behind." I moved to grab my coat, but Eugene pulled me back and kissed me before I could protest. "You're a stubborn woman," he half smiled. " I believe if anyone could make it, its you. Just promise me you'll be safe?"

We grabbed our things and made it to the front door in time to see the rest of the company filing outside and into the waiting trucks. The man from that morning winked and smiled at Eugene knowingly as he walked out the door. Eugene excused himself and walked up to an officer outside. I watched as they talked, then turned to look at me. I half raised my hand to wave, but stopped. Should I salute? Before I knew it, the officer was standing in front of me. I wanted to be scared of him, but I felt more at ease than anything.

"Miss Le Maire? Doc told me you would like to come to France with us. I have to tell you, I don't know what we are headed in to as of yet. However, if you're as good of a nurse as I've heard you should be able to hold your own pretty well. You can ride with Doc for the trip, and we'll get you set up in Battalion CP when we arrive in Haguenau. Did you need to return to camp to pick up any belongings?"

I thought for a moment, and fingered my rosary in my pocket. "No, I have everything." He saluted and walked away. Eugene grabbed my hand and we went to the trucks.

"Who was that man?" I asked. "I've never met an officer like him."

"That was Winters. Come on, there's room on Babe's truck."

We climbed in with several other men. Eugene pointed out the other men in the truck with us, starting with the man in front of us. "The guy who came in our room this morning is Babe Heffron. He's from South Philly and he's pretty tough. Beside him is Leibgott. He's one of the killers of the company; he's Jewish and has a deep hatred for all the Germans. Here on my left is Jackson, and over here is Malarky. He's been having a rough time since his friends got it a while back." He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. The wind whipped around the truck as we moved out on the road.

I looked around at the men in our truck. They reminded me of how Eugene looked that day in the cathedral. Their eyes were blank, like they were thinking of everything in the world and nothing at the same time. What amazed me most was how caring the men were towards one another. Leibgott coughed, and without a word Babe pulled out a cigarette and lit it for his friend. There were times Malarky looked like he would break down and cry. Eugene got up and sat by him for a while, put his arm around the Sergeant, and talked with him softly.

The trip was long, and the men had little to say. I figured there was no need to talk about experiences they all shared. Several of the men took the opportunity to sleep or reflect. We pulled into town in the afternoon. The sky was overcast and the buildings reflected the battles that rocked that area throughout the course of the war.

Another trooper came up to the truck and called out, "Hey guys. Some lieutenant told me to report to second." Eugene leaned in and whispered, "Webster. He was wounded in Holland. I guess he is just getting back."

"Who's leading the platoon?" Webster continued.

"Sergeant Malarkey is."

"What, no officers?" I looked back at Eugene. His gaze turned from me to the conversation going on at the back of the truck. I couldn't tell if he was upset Webster was just getting back now, or upset because Malarky was the only officer the platoon could scrape together.

"You come from the hospital?" Jackson asked.

Liebgott sneered. "Must have liked that hospital. We left Holland four months ago." My heart went out to the newly returned trooper as I turned and watched the road.

The trucks pulled up in the town square. The men hopped out of the back of the truck, and Eugene helped me down. Malarky announced, "Spread out. Hold along this line until I figure out where we're going."

"Renée, you should head up to Battalion CP as soon as possible. They should have a room for you. I need to check on a couple of the men before-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a shell coming down. It exploded on the other side of the road, and Eugene pulled me close and covered my head while the other men ducked. We stood up and the men continued walking. My heart raced as Eugene finished what he was saying like nothing happened. "I need to see a couple of the men before they get too settled in. I'll be staying closer to the line than you will be, but I'll come back and see you." He looked around and called out, "Spears! Are you headed to the CP?"

"Why?" The Captain asked.

"Take her with you, huh? She's staying with you guys. Winters approved."

"Fine. Come on." I ran to keep up as the officer walked into a nearby building and up the stairs. We came upon a room with a couch and desk and a couple of men milling around. "You'll be in that room. Lipton has pneumonia, so you can keep an eye on him and make yourself useful. The rest of us will be in other rooms around here. Got it?" Before I could reply, Spears turned and began piling a stack of papers in a box held by what I assumed was an assistant.

I walked in my room and looked around. The window had a few panes intact, yet the curtain was shredded. It is a good thing spring came early, I thought. An old oak dresser sat in the corner marred with chips and dents from falling brick. The debris on the floor crunched under my feet. I shook the dust off the top blanket on the bed and sat down. I leaned on the doorframe and watched the men get comfortable. One man covered up with a blanket on the couch; I took him to be Lipton. I noticed Webster sitting and talking with a lieutenant who just walked in. His uniform was still clean, and I knew he was new to the line.

Spears stormed into the room and immediately greeted by Lipton. "Captain Spears. Sir, this is, uh, Lt. Jones."

"Listen, for Christ's sake, will you go back in the back and shack up? There are beds back there with fresh sheets." Spears glanced in my direction and I looked away. I didn't want him to think it was my fault he wasn't in bed.

"I will sir. Just want to make myself useful, sir." I moved to help Lipton when Winters and another man entered the room.

"Listen up. Regiment wants a patrol for prisoners."

The man beside Winters added, "This one comes straight from Colonel Sink, so its not my idea."

Winters continued. "Since the river's the main line of resistance we're gonna have to cross it to get to them."

"What do we need to do?" asked Spears.

"There's a three story building on the enemy side up the embankment. We know its occupied. You can have 15 men. Think very hard about who you want to lead the patrol. We'll need a lead scout, a translator…I've got the entire battalion on covering fire."

"When?"

"Tonight, 0100."

"Yes, sir."

"Spears, I want this one as safe and foolproof as possible."

"Yeah don't take any chances," the other man said. "We're too far along for that."

I walked over to Lipton and asked him if he wanted to move to the room in the back. "Not quite yet," he replied. "I want to get this patrol figured out first."

"I'm Renée," I said and offered my hand.

"I'm Carwood Lipton," he replied, coughing softly and returning my handshake. Spears came over and began talking with Lipton about the patrol. I backed away and leaned on the wall. Winters caught eye and waved. I waved back and he left with the other officer.

Webster introduced himself to Spears and left for 2nd platoon with Lt. Jones. I helped Lipton to the back room and into bed. He thanked me and assured me he would call if he needed something. I moved to sit on the couch when Eugene appeared in the doorway. I smiled and waved him over.

"How are the men?" I asked.

"Good. They're all headed for showers now," he replied.

"What about you?"

"I'll get there. Figured I would let the other guys have a chance first."

A shell went off outside, and the building shook. Dust fell from the ceiling, and Eugene reached up and brushed it out of my hair. As I leaned in for a kiss, he stood up and grabbed his bag. He ran out the door yelling," I have to go!" I heard someone yelling outside, and I ran to my window to see what was going on. I saw as Eugene ran up to a man lying on the ground. He got down on his knees and held the man's head in his hands. Other men scrambled to the scene and stood around the two men, blocking my view. One by one they turned and walked away, headed towards the showers on the other side of the square. Eugene handed the man's dog tag to another soldier, then stood up and walked for the showers himself.

I looked around the room, pacing a bit. The past several months I thought of nothing but helping the soldiers. I scheduled sleep in between surgeries and making rounds. I responded to someone calling for a nurse faster than someone calling out my own name. I watched Eugene with the fallen man outside, and I realized I didn't know how to sit on the sidelines and not jump in to help. I didn't know how to be Renée anymore; I was just a nurse. I slipped into bed and pulled the covers over my head. I fell asleep with one question running through my head over and over; why am I here?

I woke up after dark to the sound of yelling and machine gun fire. I sat up straight in bed and looked around. The sky outside was lit so bright it could have passed for daytime. I bolted from my room and down the stairs. The main outposts were by the river. I stayed close to the buildings for cover. I needed to get to where the men were coming back. I saw a shadow of a man run from the building on my left across the street to the other outpost. I sprinted to where the man had come from. The door was wide open, and there was a set of stairs going down to the basement. I heard yelling from downstairs, and I went to investigate.

The scene was absolute chaos. There were German prisoners standing in the back surrounded by troopers. An injured man on the table cried out in pain. One of the men screamed, "Jackson, don't listen to him! You're gonna be fine!" I tried to move the men out of the way so I could take a look at him, but no one could hear me yelling. The mortars, machine guns, and shouting made the whole situation a mess. As I got to Jackson and held his legs, Eugene tore through the men and looked in Jackson's eyes. He asked for a light and a man held a lighter above Jackson's head.

"Look at the flame, Jackson, look at the flame…alright, let's get him out of here." The men lifted the gurney and began to carry him to the door. A shell went off upstairs and the building shook debris all over the men. They sat Jackson on the floor and he immediately began shaking and crying out. Eugene looked into the soldier's eyes and tried to keep his head still. "You've got to hang on, Jackson! You've got to hang on!" With one last breath, the trooper's head rolled to the side as he passed away. Eugene pulled his helmet off and looked back at the rest of the men. The only sound came from the explosions outside. One officer brought a blanket to the front and covered the body with it. A couple of the men started crying as we all stared at the blanket. Eugene stood up and leaned against the wall in the next room. I followed him.

"We have to wait for it to calm down outside before we can move…" he said. I wrapped my arms around him. He rested his head on my shoulder and cried softly. I kissed his head and whispered, "_Tout sera bien. Je suis ici._"


	11. Chapter 11: Reasons

I apologize for how long it took to get the next chapter posted. I hope you enjoy, even if it is a tad short:)

* * *

Chapter 11-Reasons

"Flush. Read 'em and weep, boys!"

The rest of the players at the table grumbled simultaneously. "Are you serious? Doc, are you helping her cheat?"

"I stay out of the card games for a reason. That's all her," Eugene laughed. I was happy to see everyone so relaxed.

Babe jumped in, "All I can say is our next game is Bridge and she's with me!"

I poured myself a small glass of whatever alcohol was being passed around the table and took a sip. Perconte chimed in, "Keep an eye on her, Doc! Any more of that and she won't make a very good partner for anyone!"

"Speak for yourself. I bet she's plenty good when she's—"

"Cobb, shut it," Bull drawled, quieting the whole room. Luz lightened the mood. "Where did you learn to play cards, anyway? Did the nuns teach you in Bastogne?"

I smiled. "By brother taught me. We made a deal; he would show me how to play cards in return for my help asking out one of the girls in town." Eugene patted my knee reassuringly as I smiled back at him.

"He must have been a damn fine player. You practically cleaned me out," Babe grunted.

"Yeah. I'm about out, too," Bull agreed.

"Thinking about calling it a night? We just got started!" I boasted with a giggle. The men stood up from the table and said goodnight as they headed to different parts of the house.

The company had moved into the village just before nightfall after a short stay in Mourmelon and a trip through Germany. Eugene insisted I make my way back to Épernay. I told him that, after being in the thick of the war for as long as I had, I could not handle sitting on the sidelines and not doing something to help. While it wasn't a complete lie, I neglected to tell him I was also scared to let him out of my sight for fear of losing touch with him. The men were in high spirits as the convoy made its way to the Alps. Each night we stopped in a village, and each night the men forced the residents out of their homes to provide lodging and, for some, souvenirs for Easy. After staying at the company CP a night, I asked Winters if I could stay with the soldiers. Although he allowed it, he asked me to stay at the CP during the day and work as his secretary to keep me as far away from the line as possible.

I looked around the room where the card game had just ended. It was not as nice as Battalion CP was, but it was a far cry from the foxholes the men shared in Belgium. The fireplace let off a soft glow that illuminated the well-furnished room. I ran my hands over the heavy oak table to collect the cards. A small chandelier dangled over the center of the room. I reached over and took Eugene's hand. I pulled him to his feet and lead him upstairs.

Although I had a separate room down the hall, I dragged Eugene into his room and closed the door behind him. "You're pretty good at cards. What else don't I know about you?" he asked as he took off his shirt.

I smiled. "Well, let's see…I can't whistle. I was scared of the dark until I was twelve…stuff like that?" I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

He turned to face me and surprised me with a peck on the lips. As he opened his mouth to speak, I caught him off guard with a kiss of my own. One kiss led to several more, and before I knew it we were lying on the bed. I reached up and pulled my dress off my shoulders as my heart raced in my now bare chest. His hands gripped my dress and pulled it the rest of the way off as I reached for his belt.

"Renée, _je t'aime_."

"I love you, too." Before he could say another word, I kissed his lips as I reached over and turned out the lamp on the bedside table.

* * *

The next morning brought the sound of the other men in the hallway and Eugene whispering in my ear as I woke up. "Don't tell me we're moving out," I groaned as I pulled the blankets over my head. I heard a chuckle and felt his arm tighten around me.

"Duty calls," he replied. He tried to sit up, but I held his arm around me so he couldn't move. "I think they'll suspect something if we're late."

"Babe suspected something back in Belgium," I said, kissing his hand. "Let's make them wonder."

Eugene slipped his arm away and pulled on his shorts and pants. I grabbed my dress, and in a few minutes we were both downstairs and loading up in the trucks with the rest of the company.

"Doc, did you hear 300,000 Germans surrendered?" Babe commented as he slid in beside Eugene. "Sounds like our job is done! So much for jumping into Berlin, huh?" The trucks pulled away and a face I didn't recognize chimed in, "Maybe there will be a jump into Tokyo instead."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"O'Keefe." Babe chuckled and shook his head as he mumbled about replacements.

The rest of the men remained quiet as the trucks rumbled down the road. We passed an old, shoddy building just as a couple of troops kicked two German prisoners outside. After a lot of yelling, they shot the Germans in the back of the head. The rest of the men remained stoic, but Private O'Keefe's eyes grew large at the sight. I rested my head on Eugene's shoulder and sighed.

We pulled into a village and cleared the trucks. The men began to spread out, looking to take anything not nailed down, when Winters called for patrols to search the area around town. Eugene and I leaned up against a statue just off the road and watched each platoon as they left in a different direction out of town.

"It seems strange, doesn't it?"

"What's that?" I replied.

"It feels like this whole thing is coming to an end. We've been away from home for so long…"

"What will you do when you get home?"

Eugene sighed. "I don't know. Find a job, probably. What about you?"

I shook my head. "I don't think I can go back to Épernay. I'll probably end up in a convent somewhere."

Eugene cleared his throat and stammered, "W-well…if you want, you can come with me to Louisiana. I'm sure my family would love to have you."

My heart skipped a beat. Was he serious? A noise from the other side of the road caught my attention. Perconte walked beside Major Winters, speaking almost frantically. Winters looked around and shouted, "Easy Company! Load up! Doc, we're going to need you!" Eugene jumped to his feet and ran to the nearest truck. I stood up, and Winters walked over to me. "Miss Le Maire, maybe it would be best if you just wait here. If we need you, we'll send a runner." I nodded and waved to the men as the trucks rumbled into the forest.


	12. Author's Note

Author's Note

Although I had originally intended to include a chapter specifically about the concentration camp Easy Company found, I felt the series showed the effects the "final solution" had on both those locked up in the camp and those who came to their aid.

Therefore, I ask you to remember the scene from Band of Brothers. May we never, EVER forget.

Thank you,

fourstarbanner


	13. Chapter 13: The Wait

Once again, my apologies for the delay on updating. But, as the saying goes, "Life is what happens while you're busy trying to update your fanfic." ...or something like that!

I don't own Band of Brothers, or Renee for that matter. But the story, she is mine. :)

* * *

Chapter 12-The Wait

"Do you have everything?"

I looked down at my feet as the tears welled up in my eyes. "Yes," I answered, the sound barely audible. Eugene wrapped me in a hug and it took everything I had not to break down in his arms. He rested his head on my hair and murmured, "Winters has a point. Our job in Europe is done; Hitler is dead and the Germans have all but surrendered." What he failed to mention was the one thought on every trooper's mind-the possibility of a jump in the Pacific.

I wiped my eyes as he continued. "Winters pulled a couple strings to get you this job back in England. Its safer where you're headed."

His voice faltered while mine cut like a knife. "Safe? The only time I've felt safe during this entire war was when I was with you and Easy!"

The people around us hurried past. The station in Munich echoed with the sound of voices speaking different languages, conductors yelling out for passengers to board, and train whistles. Everyone remained preoccupied with their own journeys. I wondered how we appeared to the people passing us. Was it just another GI saying goodbye to his wartime fling? I cringed at the thought. We barely heard each other over the roar of the station, but even without words we sensed what the other felt. The train behind us began boarding, and I reached for my pack.

"_Je promets d'écrire._" I said flippantly. I turned to leave and he grabbed my arm. I began to struggle, but gave up with a sigh. "I said I promise to write."

He ignored my attitude. "I'll meet you in Aldbourne," Eugene replied, his hand moving over my cheek. He leaned for a kiss, and I turned away. He sighed and snapped, "You know I don't want you to go. This is an order from Winters. He's looking out for you…for the both of us, _Lapine_. You know I tried to convince him to let you stay." The hurt shone in his eyes. What a hell of a goodbye, I thought to myself.

I pulled him closer and planted a small kiss on his lips. Looking into his eyes, I vowed, "_Je t'aime. Je toujours volonté._" I tossed my pack over my shoulder and climbed into the train. I sat in a seat by the window and looked out at Eugene. He mouthed the words "I love you, too" as the train pulled out of the station. I watched him until he was just a dot on the horizon then settled in for the long trip to Normandy.

The French countryside flew by as I lay curled up in my seat. The sun shone through the window and warmed the blanket I brought along in my pack. Someone wandered up the aisle, offering coffee to the passengers. I turned it down; instead, I took a sip from the flask Babe gave me as I said my goodbyes to the men. The drink and my tears both stung. My mind raced from where I was going and how long I would be there to Eugene and worrying about how Easy would fare in its next assignment. I pulled my blanket over my head and, pulling my rosary out of my dress pocket, said a small prayer for Eugene.

* * *

The men called it a concentration camp. At least that was what they were being called by the rest of the Allied forces. I knew something was wrong from the minute the men returned to town. These seasoned killers who witnessed every rage of war were shaken to their core by what they saw when they were rallied by Winters. I watched from the second floor of the company CP as the trucks returned and the men scattered into the town. Sergeants barked orders, delegating jobs to various members of each platoon. Eugene shot down every question I asked and insisted I stay behind while he loaded up medical supplies. The food and men piled on the trucks and tore off from where they came. Easy returned later that evening in a solemn state. Several of the men tried to explain what they saw, but it seemed to do it little justice. I saw the camp myself the next day as the local residents made their way to the camp, deemed by General Taylor, to clean up the mess the Nazis left behind. The image of the camp was burned deeply in my memory and I vowed, like all the others who witnessed it, never to forget.

* * *

The trip took several days as the train made stops en route to Cherbourg. I occupied myself by walking the length of the train, watching the scenery pass, and talking with the other passengers. There were several American soldiers making their way to England to return to the states. Some provided a bit of company, while some were no more than boys in dress uniforms. One soldier tried to get my attention using a phrase in French obviously learned in hopes of "wooing" one of the local women. My answer made him blush furiously. I sat back in my seat and felt homesick for the paratroopers I left behind in Germany.

After what felt like years of travel, I arrived in Aldbourne. I made my way from the train station to the town square, as requested by Winters. When I arrived, I saw an elderly woman accompanied by a teenage girl.

"Renée? Hello, dear. My name is Mrs. Barnes, and this is our houseguest, Elaine. We're glad to have you join us!" The girl beside her smiled as Mrs. Barnes pulled me into a hug. They led me to a grocery store down the road and upstairs to where the family lived, all along the way asking questions about where I was from and how I met Easy. Their home was simple, yet quaint, and I immediately fell in love with it. The living room housed a pair of chairs which sat by the old fireplace. Family pictures adorned the walls. The radio appeared to be the newest addition; it sat on a beautiful wooden table in the corner. The dining room offered four seats at a heavy oak table. An apple pie cooled on the counter. "The trees came from our backyard!" Elaine boasted. "We them in the store, too. Its good for the ration."

Elaine chimed in, "We are so looking forward to your stay. We've kept in contact with Major Winters since he's been away, and he mentioned you a time or two. I thought you two would court, but he said you were already spoken for."

Mrs. Barnes beamed. "Major Winters! Oh, I'll never get used to how that sounds!" I smiled and she gushed. "My, one would think he was my own son, don't you agree? Yes, his company was stationed here before the drop into France. He is quite a wonderful fellow; preferred studying his manuals over causing trouble with the rest of the Yanks."

It all clicked instantly. Easy Company was stationed in Aldbourne before D-Day. These were the connections Winters had in England. I couldn't believe the trouble he went through to find someplace safe for me! I felt guilty for getting upset with him back in Germany. And what of Eugene? Did he know The Barnses while they were in Aldbourne?

My head swam with questions, but Elaine snapped me back to the present. "You'll be staying in Major Winters' old room. Here, I'll show you."

"Dinner will be ready shortly!" Mrs. Barnes called out with a giggle. "Oh! _Major_Winters!"

* * *

The Barnes' grocery store kept a steady business. Elaine informed me Mr. Barnes passed away in October and the two women kept the business afloat alone the best they could. Although Mrs. Barnes insisted I did not have to help at the store, I knew an extra set of hands would not hurt. I pulled my weight by keeping the store clean while Mrs. Barnes and Elaine tended to guests and kept the shelves stocked as best they could with the rationing.

One evening after closing the store, the three of us sat around and swapped stories. Elaine informed me she arrived in Aldbourne after her neighborhood in London was bombed by the Germans. Mr. and Mrs. Barnes opened their home to her, but her two brothers found safety in a town further north. They sent letters whenever they got the chance. Mrs. Barnes said I reminded her of her eldest daughter, and offered the chance to go through her old clothes stored away in a trunk. Her daughter moved to America after she got married, and I got the impression Mrs. Barnes enjoyed having women to talk and laugh with again.

One week after my arrival in Aldbourne, Mrs. Barnes received a letter from Major Winters. The postman also delivered a letter to me. I knew who it was from, and I opened it in the middle of the store. When I pulled the letter out, something fell out of the envelope and on to the floor. I barely noticed it as I took in Eugene's handwriting. Any worry I felt went out the window when I read the first line of the letter. "I'm coming back for these."

My face must have said it all. I looked toward Elaine. She reached out and placed a set of jump wings in my hand.


End file.
